


Prayer of Healing

by FRUITMEATS



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, coming to terms with insecurities, intimate feelings about divinity and religion, to love another is an inherently holy act
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FRUITMEATS/pseuds/FRUITMEATS
Summary: Episode 81, Fjord watches Caduceus heal the party post-battle with the construct and thinks about his own feelings.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Prayer of Healing

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this immediately after watching Episode 81 live because Tal briefly mentioned casting it. I felt insecure with my writing so I left it in my drafts until just now when I pulled it up. Now that I've reread it with fresh eyes, I am gay as hell. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Post e103 edit: the timing of posting this was impeccable huh?

"Blessed she, who carries us over rolling hills and barren dust with a blooming path," Fjord stands off to the side, arms crossed while he leans against the ballista. He watches Caduceus quietly step away from his own complicated contraption, beginning his quiet prayer with his nose wrinkling at the acrid fumes wafting up from the door where Jester and Beau prod at the remains of the construct. 

Thankfully, his words invite a pleasant breeze of autumn air that curls over his shoulder to brush a tuft of pink into his eyes- and Fjord is surprised as it clears his own nose as well. There is the scent of rain, of soil and damp wood. He watches Caduceus take a moment to gently tuck the hair back into place and deeply inhale the smell. A pleasant smile curls as he sighs in delight, ready to continue. "Whose breath clears doubt and carries change."

"She is a warm sun in a cold winter, and we bask in it. " Scuffs across Caduceus' cheek lose their irritated color as his voice takes on an almost song-like, poetic cadence. A practiced rhythm. It is as it always is, low and slow filled with a heartful reverb, said mostly to himself- and if he notices Fjord's rapt attention as the others talk over him he makes no show of it. He shuffles about the space, blinking slowly as his eyes crawl over the tiny details of uneven stonework. Fjord would think the dusty mortar the most fascinating thing in the world with the way Cad analyzes it, lightly running the pads of his fingers over the texture. "She is the root claiming felled bones, of rot becoming birth."

"Today she is gray clouds howling to the wilting leaf, _it is not your time,_ " The others pay Mr. Clay no real mind, Caleb busy with retrieving Jester and Beau in a flurry of feathers then plopping down with Nott to try to pry open and identify the contents of the box he presents to her. The girls glance in Cad and Fjord's direction every so often as they debate testing the capabilities of the ballistas' runes with Beau's body. Their attention more so on the weapons themselves than their friends. 

"Today we are her fledgelings falling from the nest, _try again, take flight,_ she says, returning us to the trees," Eventually Beau sits down and Jester kneels beside her to clean her bloody knuckles and fret over broken ribs. _You were amazing,_ he sees the words more than hears them, focused as he is on listening to Cad. And it's Beau saying it, wincing as she raises her arm and ducks under it- like Jester dodging the creature’s punch. The tiefling tuts at her and coos at the dark bruises already flowering across Beau's chest while she shyly dabs a scrap of cloth against Beau's skin to clean away the blood. " For she is the Mother, caring for us always."

Fjord wonders if they can sense the Wildmother too, if they can smell the breeze that chases away the dread he feels when he glances back to the melted heap. Of when he looks back at Beau, of when he hears the horrible wheezing coming from Caleb as he mutters incantations and his eyes glow with arcane. They've all come so close to dying before and . . . Melora is with him. With _them_ , he realizes, as Caduceus drifts closer to his friends and bends slightly at the waist to loom behind Nott and inspect the box. " We give her thanks for this opportunity at life."

" The cycle will claim us all, to return to her as the earth, to feed the soil we till." He belatedly remembers Caduceus' death, and is oh so thankful. And he thinks he understands a little bit, to be able to feel the warmth of the goddess outside of direct signs- as the wind flowing around Cad softens the inflamed color of Caleb's cheeks and hands. The ragged, rattling breaths growing quiet even as the wizard is oblivious to the world, so focused on the loot. Caduceus pats Nott gently on the shoulder and she shoots him a look Fjord can't see, but Cad returns it with a soft smile. He continues to speak, turning to shuffle over to where Jester is babbling about how awesome Beau's punches were. "The Wildmother will endure."

Beau lets out a choked gasp with Jester's astonished one and cautiously touches her hand to the quickly receding purple- no doubt feeling the rejuvenation that's following Caduceus. Fjord can see the wind pick up around the three, running through the fur of Beau's coat and making fly-away hairs dance along her forehead. 

Fjord thinks he's beginning to get that it's more than the direct divine and faithful words of her chosen firbolg . . . its . . . feeling gifted by the easy kindness and heart they've been given through him. What a blessing it is to have met him, right when they needed him. To always be greeted with a warm cup of tea and an open heart, if you need it. Holding an air of invitation to a sort of intimacy most of the group might be . . . afraid of. He's genuine. To see the spirit of the Wildmother so readily in him- to catch a glimpse of the goddess' influence through the free soul of any mortal life. 

To feel blessed just to be near him.

To bask in the compassion.

" And so shall we, her chosen. " Caduceus makes eye contact with Fjord as he moves behind Beau.

. . .

. . .

It is so brief but so devastating as Cad looks away when Jester catches his attention. And Fjord wonders how stupid he looks- his cheeks feeling hot as he realizes of _course_ Caduceus would notice him staring. But it's just . . . educational. Learning how to praise the Wildmother properly . . . how to inspire your allies and heal their wounds with her grace. 

Right ? . . .

Alright. But is it his fault, really? It is more a crime to ignore a blessing so divine as . . . he hesitates to think _love_ but that's what it is, isn't it? The inherent divinity of loving another, to be put on this earth with choice and _choosing_ to be kind. To see that Caduceus has chosen her as readily as she's chosen him. That . . . that Fjord has done the same. That maybe he can be worthy of her kindness, and to feel the divine without asking for the _signs_. 

He wonders if Caduceus feels this way all the time, the rush of a heart suddenly full with holy energy- with _love_ , Fjord's thoughts dance tentatively around the word. It doesn't . . . It's a wholly compassionate love, indiscriminate, not _inherently_ romantic, and it still feels too personal and . . . undeserving to himself. But he sees how Cad _must_ always feel this way with how it flows off him in waves, how it guides his every action. 

It's inspiring.

And it's all a series of big epiphanies in a small period amongst an exceedingly and increasingly dangerous dive in a ball of wizardly doom. He feels like it's going to pick him up and run away with him- and he hopes it does. Jester interrupts his thoughts however, calling his attention as Caleb comes out of his trance. 

Caduceus is watching him as Jester suggests Fjord take the rod, and he's not sure how he looks. Fjord doesn't doubt the disappointment shows on his face when it goes to her instead of him, wishing he could be just a little bit more on the level with his friends. Whatever. It's hardly worth getting worked up over or anything, but that doesn't stop Caduceus from approaching him while Jester plops down with Beau to braid the circlet into her hair.

" How are you doing ?" He shuffles up to where Fjord is solemnly watching the group with crossed arms. Caduceus' attention hangs on him, kindly eyes resting easily on Fjord's features as he watches the others. 

" Better," Fjord heaves a long, weary sigh. His fingers pause their anxious drumming against his biceps so he can pinch his brow and scrub his face. "That was a rough one. "

" Yeah. . . " Caduceus slowly nods with a few heavy-lidded blinks. Fjord spares him a glance when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Cad looks him up and down and gives him a friendly pat. " I'm glad to hear that though, better. You uh, took a lot from that thing. "

" I uh- It probably would've killed me if it wasn't for you. So . . . thank you. That was really impressive. " It's a little intimidating to make eye contact with Caduceus, knowing how perceptive he is. Knowing he can hear the genuine gratitude and heart Fjord pours into his voice, that he no doubt can see on his face. Cad easily smiles and nods.

" Ah yes, well- yes I was. . . I'm glad we are as we are right now. " Cad chuckles and there's something to the laugh that says _I didn't expect any of that to work._ " Speaking of, you looked like you had a lot on your mind. I just want to say that . . . I wanted to say that I feel a bit out of my depth and I'm sure I'm not the only one. But we are all here together and everything's going to be alright. Everything's going to be alright."

Fjord glances off at the rest of the party, Caleb and Nott quietly chatting and watching Jester finish her work with the circlet. It rests on them for a quiet moment before he looks back to Caduceus, and he swears he can feel that breeze that chases his fears. He can't help but return Cad's smile. " Thank you, Caduceus. I think you're right, we are really. . . a bit out of our league here but together. . . well I guess we can do anything, huh?"

It's huge, and the start of something new for him, and he is thankful to have eight hours to immediately digest it and every little epiphany he had. However, he is alone with his thoughts as the party gathers their things into Caleb's dome. Fjord can't help but smile again as Caduceus prepares some tea and leaves it for him.

"If you're thirsty on your vigil." There's humor in Caduceus' voice and Fjord doesn't quite understand what's so funny but he's awfully touched that Cad went through the work just for him. He spends the first hour on the floor by the dome, enjoying it while it's warm and wondering how he came to deserve this. He inwardly trudges through his regrets, his anxieties about how the others perceive him, how he thinks his friends stronger than himself- how they _are._

It threatens to sour his mood but he remembers his conversation with Caduceus- they're all stronger together. He can't find it in himself to argue against it, especially from Caduceus. It's easy to . .. accept his worries and thoughts as fact. And he'll admit he's not sure how well he holds up to the rest of the group- _he remembers he threw the dispelling orb and lost it._ He feels stupid and conflicted but. . . but he's planting the seed, he thinks. Put a little faith in his friends, to trust them when they loom over him with kind eyes and in their own way tell him that he means something. It's a start.

At the very least . . . he is ready to learn, so that maybe _he_ can believe it, truthfully. He's ready to watch and listen more closely. To tend to . . . himself. To . . . well maybe there _is_ something to uneven bricks and . . . maybe he's excited to find out. He's . . . excited to have the choice to. And maybe there's something of a rush in his heart when he thinks of the way Caduceus looked at him. He feels holy and it's almost too much as he considers how . . . how not too long ago he . . . the power was . . . 

Ultimately he tries not to dwell on it all too much. He's not interested in sending himself into some sort of depressive spiral and existential crisis about his self worth, or worse, getting his hopes up when they might not even make it out alive. 

Still . . . 

" Thank you." Fjord anxiously drums his fingers against the ballista as he quietly speaks to the silent chamber. It's a few hours in and he's . . . moderately certain that no one is awake to hear him. His tea's gone cold and he stares at where the pot sits by the dome." For, uh, everything, you know ? We really could've been done-in there. And I-I know it was Caduceus' healing and the others' spells and all that did it but, uh. "

There is a pause as he listens for any hint of his friends stirring. He uses it to gather his thoughts and put a little more confidence in his voice. " But that's what I mean, bringing us together to do it all. And it'll . . . I'm getting it little by little. I'm feeling thankful to be alive and . . . blessed to be part of it all. Thank you. "

Nothing happens, and he _is_ a little disappointed but not really surprised. He spends the evening playing with the controls of the ballista between bouts of contemplative staring at Caduceus' tea pot, thinking of how full his heart feels.


End file.
